ARC 7-Cursed Fates-130
ARC 7-Cursed Fates-130
During the second day of my three-day amnesty, the city is busy. I take note of everyone’s frantic pace as I stroll the city, planning my attack.
The Hall has taken Kierra’s warning to heart. Every street I walk on, I see at least one acolyte, easily spotted by their distinctive colorful robes. They are just shy of forceful as they bang on doors and direct the civilians to evacuate the city.
From what I overhear, the Hall has plans to build a camp a short way outside the city, just far enough to be out of danger. They’ll protect anyone that comes to them but that is as far as they’ll intervene.
The hunters are just as busy. I catch snatches of their conversations as they cower in their homes, drink away their misgivings in taverns, and whisper to each other where they think they’re safe. Their conversations are fearful and full of doubt.
If the war wasn’t popular before, it is a nightmare now. No one, not even the bravest and most reckless, are interested in fighting. They don’t care about gold, or Quest, or if they’ll ever hunt again. They just want it to end. And breaking up their fearful ramblings is the constant sound of coughing, its frequency becoming more pronounced as the day drags on.
The third day of my amnesty is somber as we finish our preparations. Kierra, who made herself scarce the days before, returns and demands food. She’s been gorging herself nonstop from sunrise, demanding more whenever she runs out. A tradition, she says. Food equals energy, and war consumes energy. So she will eat all day and sleep all night. When morning dawns, she will be in the perfect state to wage war.
Alana’s preparations are far simpler. In the north, she replaced her old, tattered armor with an impressive full plate. Her family’s armor, marked by a helmet in the guise of a snarling wolf. She spends the morning running. No other training, just lapping the estate. When she’s done she polishes her armor and sharpens her sword. All of it’s done in silence. The tension around her is so thick, I can’t bring myself to approach her.
In comparison, my own preparations are shallow. As in, I don’t prepare at all. All I need to do to win this stupid war is unleash myself. Give in to my hurt and anger. It won’t even take thought. Kierra and Alana have much more complicated roles, the elf tasked with weaving through the chaos to target the stronger hunters while Alana will be focusing on rescuing the hostages.
That was a surprisingly easy conversation, as we fell into our roles naturally, the most contention surrounding Alana’s role. As there will be powerful spells flying around, I could only feel comfortable if Geneva accompanies her. They will work as a team, with the succubus fighting off the powerful casters no doubt watching the hostages while Alana gets said hostages to safety.
The problem with the arrangement is that the hostages are in separate locations, several minutes away even at my top speed. Only one can be rescued at a time. If the hunters at the hostage locations have some way of communicating with one another, and it’d be dumb to assume they don’t, then every hostage we try to rescue after the first will be in several times more danger. Truly, we can only have a reasonable guarantee that we’ll save one.
I never had to ask Alana to prioritize Talia over her sister. She suggested it, spouting some logic about Talia and Yulia’s relative worth based on their future potential. I cut her horseshit off mid-word and demanded the real reason. If she truly hates her sister so much or at least loves Talia more, I’d rather she give me her selfish justification than try and hide it behind layers of “acceptable” crap.
“…I already chose our family over the north. Loyalty to the clan and all that. Besides, if Talia dies, I’m convinced Kierra will lose it.”
A response that was both heartwarming and pragmatic. The frown she wore while speaking tells me that she is far from alright with the thought of sister dying but she’s resolved to do what must be done.
Both succubi are out of the house all day. Geneva hangs in the vicinity where Talia is being kept while Bell does the same for Yulia. Their instructions were to gather information about the holdings and, if the opportunity presented itself, rescue the women. Unfortunately, the hunters aren’t careless. They were only allowed to move if they were certain they would be successful. Because I am certain that after tomorrow, the hunters will do anything within their power to appease me.
When night falls, they return empty-handed. Soon after, Earl and Anna stand before me, full of reluctance. I give them a weak smile as I ruffle their hair. “It’s just for a day or two.”
“Are you sure we can’t be of service, my lady?” Earl asks, his conflicting desires to dutifully follow orders and to be close during a time of perceived danger clear in his tight tone.
“Help Lady Lou,” Anna adds with a solemn nod, while petting the three flocketts cradled in the crook of her arm.
“The best way you can help me is to be safe.” I try to smile but the somberness of the coming day robs it of any power. “Both of you are incredible. I know you can handle yourself against a few hunters. What I’m afraid of is that I might hurt you.” I crouch, making my gaze level with theirs. “I don’t want my anger to hurt you.” I’d never forgive myself.
“…I understand,” Earl says with reluctance as Anna pouts “We will see to our safety. You won’t have to worry about us.” He bows deeply before turning to his sister. “Come on.” He holds out a hand to Anna who stops petting her fluff balls to take it.
“Lady Lou stay safe too,” Anna calls over her shoulder as her brother leads her to the back entrance of the estate.
I look down at the imp waiting at my feet. “Take care of them. If they’re harmed, you will be held accountable.”
“Coo!” {I will not fail you, Lou.}
No, she won’t. Not on this. “Go.”
She scampers off. Soon after, I hear the back door open and close. The sound sends a wave of relief through me, though it doesn’t soothe me for long. I turn to Geneva, who waited patiently during my goodbyes. “You have one more task for tonight. Search for the Teppin family. If they remain in the city and you can do so without expending a significant amount of mana, capture them and stash them somewhere you are reasonably confident they will not be harmed or found until tomorrow night. If they are outside of the city, return.”
“As you wish.” If she feels any kind of way about being asked to work around the clock, she doesn’t let it slip into her tone or show on her features.
That’s it then, all the meager preparations handled. I briefly consider joining in on Kierra’s feast or sitting with Alana, but I discard both ideas. I may be resolved to do what needs to be done but it feels terrible. So terrible, I want someone to comfort me, make all the bad feelings go away. And I can’t afford that.
It may be a groundless worry, but I feel that if I give in to these feelings, if I soften even a fraction, I’ll balk tomorrow. I’m afraid that if I sit with my lovers, they’ll try and soothe me. Or worse, they won’t. That’d break me in a different way. I hate to see what this is doing to them. The idea that it could be permanent, a very real possibility if Talia or Yulia dies, is heartbreaking.
The more I think of it, the angrier I get at those that have forced us into this situation. Thoughts I indulge in as I crawl into bed, deciding on an early night. Anger is good.
I drift through the passing hours, too wired to fall asleep but too somber to bother doing anything else. Kierra is the first to join me. I can feel her full stomach as she presses against my back and curls around me. She’s not in the mood to talk either as her hand softly strokes my chest, though only for a short while. Soon, her breaths become deeper and her hand falls to the bed, sleep taking her in record time.
Alana enters the room what has to be at least an hour later. “Still awake?” she asks, turning her back to me as she strips alongside the bed.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Mm.” Normally, she likes to wear something to bed but she clearly can’t be bothered as she climbs under the covers without a stitch of clothing. I’m a little disappointed that she sleeps with her back to me, but I let it be.
“Lou?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happens tomorrow…we don’t let it stop us. We stop, we doubt…we change? Then it’s their win. No matter how many we kill or how shattered they are, they win.”
What a thing she’s asking of me. But, as always, I can deny her nothing. “I’ll try.”
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